


Need some distraction, oh beautiful release

by Verisimilitude



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, First Time, Kink Meme, M/M, prompt, slight d/s (squint and miss it?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:34:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verisimilitude/pseuds/Verisimilitude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/15638.html?thread=86855958#t86855958">this prompt</a> at the Sherlock Kink Meme:</p>
<p>
  <i>John riding Lestrade's cock oh-so-slowly, drawing out the sex for hours. Give Lestrade a fucking filthy mouth and have John be a quivering mess of moans and gasps, and I will love you forever.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>They can be established, a fling, or John's substitute for Sherlock. I'm not picky.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need some distraction, oh beautiful release

It starts with a slow and easy seduction; quiet conversations at crime scenes, the gentle brush of fingertips, drinks at the pub while the footie is on, dinner after a case. Nothing's explicitly said, it could all just be two men making friends, getting to know one another. But tonight, instead of John heading home on the tube, he's sharing a cab with Greg, back to Greg's flat, and the anticipation is making his skin prickle with heat and leaving him unable to sit still.  

They don't touch in the cab, or when they're climbing the stairs to Greg's place.  John doesn't crowd up behind Greg as he unlocks his front door.  It's all perfectly civilised, appropriate and restrained.

That changes the second the John closes the door behind him.   John lets Greg pin him to the wall, one hand on John's hip, the other braced against the wall by John's head.  It isn't rushed, instead there's a slow burning intensity in the way Greg looks John in the eyes, before his gaze drops deliberately to John's mouth, and John leans forward into the kiss without hesitation. 

Greg isn't a whirlwind, instead he's all tightly focused attention; he's long, slow kisses that leave John breathless and drunk on something that's more than lust, but not love, not yet. John lets Greg crowd him down the hall and into his bedroom, trading kisses on the way and stripping each other so that by the time they fall onto the bed, they're both naked except for John's left sock and Greg's watch.

Greg's hands are firm and steady, fingers digging into the muscles of John's thighs, skimming up the length of his spine, curling tight around the jut of his hips. John does his best to reciprocate, learning the slope of Greg's shoulders, the curve of his arse, the heft and weight of his cock. Greg slides one hand down, fingers pressing and twisting, a tease of sensation where John's most sensitive. 

"Let me fuck you," Greg says, trailing open mouthed kisses up John's neck, and the vulgarity is unexpectedly hot, sending a shiver of surprised arousal across John's skin.

"Yeah, yeah, OK," John says, even though this isn't something he does often, and never on a first date, but they've been heading for this for weeks, maybe months and he just wants, right now, wants someone else's hand on him, wants _Greg_ very much, first date or not.

Greg's finger dips inside, a mild burn that just makes John suck in a breath and his back arch. "Yeah, like that," Greg mutters, and pulls John into a kiss that's deep and dirty in all the right ways, before he rolls away and digs around in his bedside table. 

He lets Greg pull him so that he's on his knees, straddling Greg's hips. Greg has one hand around John's cock, grip tight as he strokes, while he slides a finger into John, slow and deep. It doesn't burn at all this time, but it makes John shiver and goose bumps break out over his skin. He can't help squirming a little, caught between pleasure and the strangeness that he always feels at first. 

"God, yeah. Look at you," Greg says, eyes wide and hungry as he watches John. A second finger joins the first and John's breathing hard now, rocking his hips; back into Greg's fingers, and forwards into the hand on his cock. The way Greg looks at him, like he wants to devour John makes his stomach flip and he's suddenly eager to get the foreplay over with.

"Now, ready now, come on," John says and watches as Greg's eyes widen even more, pupils wide and dark.

It takes next to no time for Greg to roll a condom over his cock, and the whole time, he keeps his fingers inside John, and every movement he makes has them twitching and every twitch makes John's body shift, has him aching in the best ways.

"Ride me, come on, take it. Want to watch you fuck yourself on me. God," Greg's voice peters out into a groan as he pulls his fingers out so that John can slide down Greg's cock. John drags it out as long as possible, wondering how he could have forgotten the overwhelming feeling of that first entry, the sensation of stretching and the fullness that steals his breath. It's as if every nerve end is jumping and he can feel his own pulse, fluttering at his neck and groin and the heavy heat of Greg's cock inside him. 

He's never been one for dirty talk, but it's hot to hear the desperate lust in Greg's voice, to hear him undone and needy, eyes raking over John's body like he can't get enough of watching John, of seeing what his touch, inside and out, does to John.

He arches his back, braces his hands on Greg's chest, then lifts himself up, slow and steady, before dropping back down, just as slowly, feeling every inch of the slick, tight slide of Greg's cock inside him. He shivers and feels another wave of goose bumps break out. It's almost the same adrenaline rush as he gets when he's chasing Sherlock around London; that heart thumping sense of being truly alive. 

Greg groans, deep and throaty, and his eyes half close, although it does nothing to diminish the intensity of his gaze. He reaches up and curls a hand around the back of John's neck, dragging him down into a kiss that's wet and slow, while his other hand lets go of John's cock and instead grips John's hip and encourages him to keep moving, rocking slowly, feeling the shift and flex of Greg's cock deep inside.

He finally lets John go, lets him sit back up. Greg puts his other hand on John's hip and uses the grip to force him to keep to Greg's pace, long, slow, deep strokes that make John's breath catch each time he sinks back down and Greg's hips jerk up, making sure he's as deep inside John as he can get. 

"Fuck, that's it. Slow, just like that. Gonna watch you come apart," Greg's voice is low and harsh, roughened by lust, and John groans in response.

Greg forces him to keep the same speed and every time John tries to move faster, tries to give in to what his body wants, Greg tightens his hands enough that John wonders if he'll still be wearing the marks tomorrow, the thought making his cock twitch and his pulse jump. He reaches to stroke himself, but Greg catches his hand and won't let him. 

"No, not yet, just a little longer. You can wait. It's going to be so good, I promise," there's a dark, dangerous promise in Greg's voice and John shudders. He knows his own weaknesses, but he's still powerless to help himself against such a pretty lure.

He loses track of time, lost in a haze of lust and desperation, fucking himself on Greg's cock until his thighs burn and his back aches and he can't tell pleasure from pain any longer, overstimulated and almost frantic with the need to come. His eyes sting with sweat and he knows he's making pitiful, plaintive noises, gasps and sobs that just make Greg pull him down harder and murmur filthier and filthier endearments until John's shivering and certain he can't take any more.

"Please, please, please," he finally begs, beyond any thought of shame or embarrassment. 

"God, look at you. So fucking hot. Come on, like that," Greg says, and he takes one hand off of John's hip and wraps it around John's cock. The other hand encourages John to speed up. He chases his orgasm desperately, and for a few moments, he thinks he isn't going to be able to come, that he's going to be stuck in this frenzied state until his heart gives out. 

When it finally starts, John's whole body seizes and he actually stops breathing for long seconds. 

"Oh fuck, yes, yes, fuck," Greg thrusts up, hard and deep, obviously lost in the throes of his own orgasm, but every thrust just keeps John coming, longer than he would have thought possible, until he's begging for it to stop.

When it's over and he can breathe again, he lets Greg topple him gently to one side. They lie there together, panting. Small after shocks occasionally run through John's body and he's pretty sure he isn't going to be able to move for a long, long time. 

He's equally sure he's going to want to do this again, just as soon as his body stops trying to turn itself inside out.


End file.
